That's Why, That's Why
by UE
Summary: The night Itachi seizes the Mangekyou Sharingan. Itachi and Shisui centric.
1.

**That's Why, That's Why...**  
_**That's Why I Chose You**_

* * *

Hazy streaks of red and orange candlelighted the undersides of the clouds, granting temporary life to the dying sky above them and melding into tiger stripes against the ever-expanding dark of evening. In the distance, a bird cawed, and that sound seemed to cue night to fall even faster; the fields ushering their gold into shades of grey as the faint, ghostly glow of the moon struggled to rise from beneath a foggy layer of stars that blanketed the heavens overhead.

Nighttime finally descended and when it did, it hailed the moon as queen. She unveiled her face for the world to witness and liberated her soft beams, smiling as they yawned and stretched, spreading out far enough so that they were able to reach the west river and tiptoe across its watery surface. Next to the riverside stood two figures, both Uchihas and both silent, who remained in the shadows of the nearby trees, untouched by the beams and unwilling to see what the moonlight had to offer.

But the moon only became brighter.

"This wind..."

Shisui drew in a breath.

"Can you feel it?"

Itachi certainly felt a cool breeze sift through his hair and run past his ears, but he didn't reply. Instead, he just looked up at Shisui, at a face that was too long to belong to a fifteen year old. Almond-shaped eyes, darker and sharper than obsidian, hid behind several draping bangs, stray strands which framed the slim boy's cheeks. The rest of Shisui's hair was pulled back high and tied into a slick ponytail that fell until it reached the base of his neck, where shoulder met spine. As a ninja, his build was thin but strong, and as an Uchiha, his skin was characteristically pale, but with all the shadows that were upon them now, it was difficult to tell.

For a moment, Itachi studied Shisui's face as though seeing it for the first time, that face that shouldn't be on someone so young, that face he had gotten to know so well over the past year, that face which was now gazing at the river in front of them with a faint smile...and then Itachi found himself unable to look anymore and, narrowing his eyes, shifted his gaze away.

"This wind is whispering."

Shisui's voice cracked a little, before slipping into a more silvery tone.

"Every fragrance gathered and every essence captured...all of it woven together to create the fabric of wind. There are stories and secrets being carried across distances and throughout time, waiting to be unwrapped. One needs only to silence himself and listen."

When he was in the mood, Shisui had an obscure way of making everything about a pale and poor world sound even richer than rainbows. They could have just completed an assassination on an empty, open field and it would be Shisui who'd say that it was a true shame that the man had to die in such a barren place where there was no one around, not even a tree whereupon he was sure at least some brown-spotted owls would hoot dirges for him. And he would never say this in mockery or bitterness or even sympathy – his words always flowed out calmly, smoothly composed. It was one of his many traits that Itachi was rather fond of, but...

"And what story is the wind telling you now, Shisui?"

"Well...it says you're going to tell me one, one that's wondrous."

At that, Itachi gave a laugh. It was too dry and too abrupt, but Shisui failed to notice.

The chirping of the cicadas grew louder while the river frogs croaked throaty protests; the stars shone in shafts far and thin, like visible notes of a drawn out symphony, and the moon sailed ever higher into the harbor of the sky. Though the main temple of the Nakano shrine may have only been a few miles away where Itachi and Shisui stood, there was no one that would ever come close to hearing their words besides the creatures of the nocturne and the celestial bodies that peered down on them all.

"You don't even know why we're here..."

Itachi said softly and in feigned contemplation, walked slowly from out of the shadows and closer to the riverbank, where streams of the moon and her minions shimmered onto his dark hair and dark clothes and bestowed upon them lighter, more luster hues.

Shisui stayed where he was, watching the other boy tilt his head upwards, as though he were inwardly calling out to someone above them.

"Tell me why we're here."

His words grew more solemn.

"You're the only person I'd ever miss an important clan meeting for. What is it that you said you wanted to show me? Surely it isn't simply Nakano by moonlight?"

A moonlit Nakano on a warm night was one of Shisui's most cherished places. Had it only been this past summer when he had run after Itachi as the latter was heading home, eyes bright and with shortened breath? Shisui's normally pale cheeks had carried a light flush as he proposed that they "witness something that'll make you feel more alive than you've ever felt." There was something attractive in those words and it was just like Shisui to promise the impossible and have it come true.

"...Do you remember that first time you brought me here?"

Except, for Itachi, it wasn't watching the light of the moon flirt with the tops of Nakano's waters like butterflies among black roses, nor was it the permeating peace drifting lazily through the air that stirred every side of his soul. It was something else, something Itachi couldn't quite pinpoint at that time nor at any time after that. He remembered looking at Shisui, who was stretched out comfortably on the grass, hair sprawled around his face and his hands cradling the back of his head. He remembered Shisui directing him to the do same and he did; the two of them lay on the fields with their noses pointing to the stars. He remembered Shisui softly humming, drowning out the bubbling songs of Nakano with his hollow, chestnut voice—too deep to belong to someone so young—and Itachi remembered looking up to see the jeweled gates of heaven open up in the night's sky.

"Of course..."

Neither spoke for a while and the wind started to pick up.

And then, Itachi felt Shisui move from underneath the trees and towards him, footstep after footstep and the earthy crunching of grass bending beneath weight. Soon it all stopped and he felt a hand on his shoulder—that strong and gentle grip—and he lowered his head, catching his breath as he felt his world begin spinning faster and faster.

"Shisui, to me...you have become..."

A pause, a holistic straining, a finale.

* * *

Side note: THERE WILL BE MORE. This was originally a one-shot, but I'm having trouble with certain parts so I'm splitting this up into two chapters. The title of this fic comes from a part in Utada Hikaru's _Deep River_, which I listened to practically the entire time while writing this. And yes, the irony kills me. 


	2. 

**That's Why, That's Why…  
****_That's Why I Chose You_**

* * *

Fragments of a spectrum swirled without root or aim and caught Itachi by the throat. 

"…You are…my closest friend…"

The hold on his shoulder relaxed; the looming vertigo momentarily passed.

"As you are to me, Itachi."

His back was to Shisui and yet Itachi could still feel that small, slight smile rippling across the other boy's face.

"But…I sense that there's more you want to say. In truth, you've been acting strange lately. Also, there have been murmurings among the clansmen…"

Itachi noted how his own palms went cold at the word "strange" and how at the same time Shisui's hand finally withdrew. The young ninja was still talking, but the words spiraled away like echoes, blending against background until the syllables coalesced. He saw Shisui before his eyes, floating beneath a shower of silver light, his lips opening and scraping against one another but with nothing coming out, his form oblivious to the wind toying with wisps of his hair. It didn't feel real, but somewhere past the smoke and the ashes, Itachi knew he was experiencing this vision in color and in full, and that unshakable realization made his heart move even faster.

He blinked. The scenery refocused and he could hear Shisui's voice again.

"…if there's something, know that my ears are open and my mouth is closed. You have my trust."

Grey mist, blanketing and diaphanous, drifted over the moon, and Itachi wanted to melt in the shadows that now expanded and surrounded them. Encircling, creeping, the darkness arched and sprang, swiftly preying upon the few specks of white light that remained resting on their faces. And as the seconds died, the moon gradually disappeared altogether, clutching her light and fleeing, much to Itachi's envy.

"Itachi…"

There was a brief and sudden gust of wind rushing unexpectedly from his left side and Itachi inhaled sharply when he realized it wasn't wind at all, but Shisui gliding as a phantom over the ground, ending up in front of him so that the two were now face to face. Shisui, who appeared to be so much taller than recent memory allowed, directed his eyes towards his and waited patiently. There was a tenderness underlying his statuesque gaze, hidden in the way pearl is within clam, and there was strength, fair and complete, exuding from his silence, never diminishing, not even for a moment…and Itachi couldn't help thinking if there would—and if there could—ever be another person like the one who stood before him now.

"It's odd, I suddenly remembered something you told me."

He had spoken rather loudly and Shisui perked up.

"Hm?"

A slight chill whistled by and the faraway tree branches, looking more like spindles in the ever-deepening dark, started to sway off-rhythm.

"'Nakano is free.' Is that why this river holds your heart?"

For some reason, Shisui didn't respond. Nevertheless, a strange excitement took hold of Itachi just then and he felt he couldn't stop. The words tasted sweet and flew like lightning off his tongue.

"Dancing carelessly, its wings for waves, its end unseen and its course unpredictable. It answers to and is bound by nothing. The Nakano is free, free in the truest sense. That's why you admire it so, isn't it? That's why I, too…I wish to call such a freedom my own. Shisui, I…"

An electric shock with the force of a vortex and the fury of a phoenix suddenly rumbled in the center of Itachi's chest, surging and rising, spreading and ripping throughout his pulsating veins. What followed was an empowering burst of adrenaline that erupted inside his body, and he was unsure as to whether he caused it to happen or if it was happening on its own accord. Everything was retracting, balling up and wounding tightly in his mind with an intensity he didn't believe was possible. Then a tremendous hush fell over the world and there was a blackening—a blackening that came not from an absence of divine light but from a sentience hungry, heavy, and relentless—and gone were the river, the trees, and the fields. His hands grew itchy in anticipation, his blood was pumping hot and fast, and Itachi vaguely wondered if Shisui could hear his heart screaming.

"…I intend on obtaining the Mangekyou."

Almost as if with an authority of their own, his hands flashed seals and in a flurry of fingers, elements, and sparks of chakra, Itachi leapt several meters away into the grassy stalks while beckoning water from the Nakano. Waves emerged and in mid-air morphed into several snake-like rivulets—all but one of which were illusions—that then lashed out and coiled around Shisui's body, wrapping his torso tightly and lifting him off the ground. Shisui was helpless, draping in the sky like a hanged man.

"My water mirage technique…when did you…!"

Black eyes shot up to meet with Itachi's red. Why the other boy had not utilized his Sharingan in spite of a ninja's natural instinct, Itachi did not know. But what was more amazing was how Shisui insisted on talking, disregarding the hard water now curling around his throat.

"The purpose of having a clan and establishing strong brotherhood…the whole reason for the existence of the structure of the Uchiha as we know it…was to…was to prevent something like this. The Mangekyou goes...it goes against all of this."

Family. Clan. Name. Honor. But where was Self? It was being swallowed and the very thought made Itachi burn.

"Shisui, the clan is what prevents us from reaching our truth, it blinds us and distracts us from the height of what we can grasp."

The other boy's eyes wandered upwards, lost.

"And they had said…"

"Who? The leaders?"

Struggling, Shisui tilted his head.

"I had believed in you…and…to be truthful…I…no, it no longer matters. But tell me Itachi, what good will this do? When they examine my body, they'll know it's you. When they know this murder was orchestrated by _your_ hand, they'll be upon you. Can even the Mangekyou save you then?"

Itachi smirked.

"How logical and yet how unlike you to attempt to plead for your life in such a way."

"It's not my life I'm thinking of right now."

The reply was stony and Itachi laughed quietly, almost to himself, and his eyes glistened in the dark.

"That's why it has to be you, Shisui."

Itachi watched as Shisui's words fumbled in coughs.

"Any action that needs to be justified through words isn't worth acting upon. And I admit, your desire for the Mangekyou surprises me, for it is a technique that consumes the soul. Every…everything in the body is a source of energy, everything from the surface of the bone to the core of our emotions. To break down the barriers, to direct those channels and extract energy from them, to transform all that is heart and spirit into a death weapon…

"It is…sickening."

It had been the only time Itachi had heard him come so close to scoffing. His eyes heated up.

"Shisui...before they are even certain that it's me, this entire village…and our entire lineage will fall."

With blank expression, Itachi watched as Shisui then lowered his head, mouth contorting into a half-smile, half-sob. He couldn't tell which it was; he didn't want to know but the image kept filling his eyes.

"I see."

The voice was so faint that one had to question whether it was even there at all, but Itachi could still somehow hear him. Then, with muscles tightening, Itachi dug his foot hard into the dirt and concentrated, readying his hands for the final blow.

"You told me once never to fear death."

Shisui turned his face away.

"I don't fear it. And I'm not mourning for my own sake, Uchiha Itachi."

And the rest unraveled, dream-like: the water swelled with energy and the individual hydras merged, collapsing against one another as a huge aquatic sphere arose from the collecting mass. There was little resistance and the sphere enveloped everything from the neck upward. Itachi closed his eyes, weaving and redirecting his chakra as necessary, hand seals deterred not even for an instance. At last, powdery vestiges of a flame flickered at the bottom of Itachi's stomach and roused his senses. When he opened his eyes, it had already finished. His hands loosened and the serpentine waters lowered the body and carried it to the edges of Nakano's banks, nudging until it rolled over, left arm flopping into the river.

The thick fog that had clung to the moon was now peeling off. Walking over to where the corpse was, Itachi breathed heavily as he looked on at the scene: the moon was generously washing over every feature, reflecting off the pallid skin and casting the white and black of the eyes onto the distant stars; pupils dilated, opaque; pieces of hair were plastered and wet against forehead; and limbs, once lithe and silken with movement, were now rendered limp and didn't appear as flesh at all. Voices of wildlife surfaced into his ears, as though they had ceased crooning all this time, coming out only now when it was deemed safe. Itachi licked his lips slowly, the coming of morning crowding his thoughts when just then, something cold whipped against his cheek, something fierce and biting, and he wondered if it was wind or if it was breath or if there was even a difference anymore.

_Remember Itachi…the river is limited by the shores, it is guided by the wind. Without it, the waters would spread too thin, the waves would fall to a standstill, and the river will be no more…_

He pulled a ragged piece of paper from his pocket and held it, running the words that were written on them through his mind over and over again.

All around, the stars lowered into whispers, heralding the oncoming twilight as the corners of the clouds boasted the barest tint of rose. Shadows yielded and shrank, retreated like retiring puppets with their strings in the atmosphere and what was once a high and full moon now swung closer to the summits of the remote eastern hills. Far away, low and melancholy sounds of an owl's cry rebounded against the sky, dipping and mounting the curve of the winds that speeded alongside the now fading moonlight.

Finally, he dropped the note beside the wet, dead body and watched it flutter like a withering petal in the air. He never heard it touch the ground.

* * *

Ending Notes: I wrote Itachi more vulnerable than I think is possible…but then I'm reminded of all those manga images where the guy just seemed so unstable. Not to mention the desperate voice that the "suicide" note carried. So yeah, I was trying to capture both the fragility and ferocity that is Itachi's mind…doubt I succeeded so constructive criticism would very much be appreciated. 


End file.
